


Country Confessions

by TheDarkestFallingStar



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock BBC
Genre: Angry!John at first, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, Snowball Fight, eventual kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 18:24:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2631704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkestFallingStar/pseuds/TheDarkestFallingStar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John was content, content and bored till Sherlock came back and ripped the rose-tinted, cracked glasses John had just finished pasting together again for this life. He was pissed, but he was happy, happy to have the man he loves back. Written for Bubski McBoo for FAGE007.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Country Confessions

 

 **FAGE 007  
Title: ** Country Confessions

 **Written for:** Grace French/ Bubski McBoo

 **Written By:** TheDarkestFallingStar

 **Rating:** M

**Summary:**

**Prompt used:** Set your foot to virgin snow.

**If you would like to see all the stories that are a part of this exchange visit the facebook group: Fanficaholics Anon: Where Obsession Never Sleeps, or add the C2 to get all the stories direct to your inbox.**

**www . fanfiction community /FAGE-007/93625/**

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**John POV**

I don't know how I got here. Months ago I was happy; no, not happy – just okay. I was okay with my life, my boring monotone life in London. I was no longer sleepless, no longer gallivanting around the city and bloody countryside 'till early hours in the morn on a case and having to work in two hours' time.

I no longer was awoken with the sound of a violin playing rudely at three in the morning or even to the sound of gunshots and shattering glass. No longer had to clean the messes of questionable substances from the kitchen table or have to smell and taste the rotting flesh of human tissue.

I was content in my apartment with Mary, my soon-to-be fiancé, who had helped me overcome the mourning of Sherlock.

I was… content…

_Lies..._

Bloody hell, I was bored with my life. I missed all of the gallivanting, the tune of Sherlock's shenanigans; I even missed Mycroft.

Yet, what I had come to be accustomed to for my life, my boring cookie cutter life, was ripped violently away from me when Sherlock appeared at my side disguised as a waiter the night I was to propose to Mary.

He wrecked everything, tore away the rose-tinted, cracked glasses I had just finished pasting together again for this life. With glee, he'd smashed them. I was pissed, but I was happy, happy to have the man I love back.

Yes, I had loved Sherlock. I still do if I were to admit it.

But with Sherlock in my life, things that had settled became chaos and Mary –  _Mary_ , the woman I had loved – was exposed for the very cruel heartless woman she was. Moran… She was… She was a reason as to why he had left. No matter how much she had begged for me to stay or the words she uttered of her devotion, I couldn't live with a woman who had ultimately had her crosshairs on my back the day Sherlock jumped.

"John? Dear, are you alright?" I turn slightly from the window to see Mrs. Holmes, her eyes much like Sherlock and Mycroft's while piercing through me.

"I don't know, yes? No?" I reply, turning my eyes out towards the rising sun and countryside.

As I said, I didn't know how I got here. To be at Sherlock's home in the countryside on Christmas of all things. How the bloody bastard convinced me to come after everything was beyond me;  _no –_ I knew why. Because I love him and because I missed him.

"Hm, I must say I am surprised you came here with Sherlock. After all that boy has done to you I would have told him to sod off myself," she states simply as she moves to my side, handing me a glass of what I assumed was brandy.

I looked to her in surprise, causing her to grin, the same grin Sherlock always gave when he stunned someone. But this one wasn't mocking like his usually was.

"But I understand. Love does funny things, doesn't it?" she asks, still smiling. I wasn't surprised she knew; after all, the Holmes brothers got their sharp, keen eyes from her.

"That it does," I state, a smile pulling at my lips as snow began to fall. Fresh, pure, clean snow. It had been a long time since I had seen the beginnings of the white flurry on the countryside. Yes, it may have snowed in London but it was different; the snow was different. In London, it seemed like the snow itself caught the smog and the emotions of the dull grey and enhanced it.

Here it was pure, lively, capturing the sunlight and the calmness that the country seemed to ooze with.

"If you'll excuse me," I state while walking out the back door and head to love-seat swing that hung from the large overhanging branch of an Elm tree. I gently rocked as I continued to watch the sunrise and the snowfall, my mind drifting from everything that troubled me so.

"John." It was pained, but I did not look, just patted the empty spot next to me.

"I know you are mad still, I deserve it but you must understand why I did it. I… I just…" he rambled, causing me to sigh and turn away from the view before me to a bedraggled Sherlock.

"I understand, Sherlock. I was mighty pissed when you came back but I understand. But you must understand that it hurt me; it bloody tore me apart to see you lying there on the pavement with your blood tainting that sidewalk and my hands. I had spent a year in our flat just staring at your chair and the bloody skull. Everything was so silent, so dull that I… You need to ask Mycroft," I explain, turning back to the view before me, holding back all the thoughts and the silence. I didn't look when I felt the swing rock as he left, his footsteps crunching through the now snow covered ground in a hurry.

"Bloody hell, what happened? I have never seen him so…" Greg trailed off, handing me a hot cup of tea.

I shook my head and cast a look at him. I couldn't believe he was here too and with Mycroft, nonetheless. "Where's Mycroft?" I ask, causing Greg to sigh.

"Working, of course. How long have you been up? You look terrible, mate," he asks, causing me to cut him a dark look before laughing slightly.

"I was up before even Sherlock and Mycroft; in fact, I was awake before they went to sleep." I shrugged, telling him in a Sherlockian way that I didn't sleep at all.

"You know, John…" I sighed harshly, expecting another conversation about everything, only to be shocked as a ball of snow collided with my face. I turned sharply, my eyes wide as I saw Greg smirking, another one in his hands poised to throw.

"Bloody hell!" I yell before jolting to my feet, the cup of tea falling to the ground and luckily not breaking as I dove behind the tree. Unfortunately, it was snow free. My eyes scanned the area and saw a large patch beginning to form near the house where the shrubs were.

"This means war, Lestrade!" I yell, before sprinting towards my goal, barely stopping as a snowball flew in front of me. His aim was near perfect, something that gave this little snowball fight some kick. "I'll get you!"

Laughter filled the yard, "I'd like to see you try!"

I gathered my ammo quickly as the snow began to fall more but yet not enough to cover us. I saw a dash of grey to the left and I waited, poised behind the trees. When Greg dashed out to throw, I aimed and fired, smacking him dab in the face while laughing.

"Jesus Christ, if your arm is that good I'd like to see your aim with a gun," he spluttered out before dodging as I continued my assault, pelting him with them. I couldn't help but laugh.

"What the hell is going on?" Mycroft's voice called from the doorway, his eyes scanning the yard with Sherlock looking stricken by his side. From where I was, I could see Greg, a wicked grin forming on both our faces as we began to gather our ammo to throw at the Holmes brothers.

"Count of three…" I mouth, causing him to nod… "One... Two… THREE!" I yell, jumping up and throwing, laughing at the shock on their faces as our snowball ammo hit their mark.

"Did they just throw a snowball at us?" Sherlock asked in disbelief, his eyes wide and a glint I had seen so very little flickering in his eyes.

"That they did, little brother. I say for today we be on teams and get our revenge," Mycroft hummed, placing his umbrella to the side, shocking me. It was very rare for Mycroft to join us in anything and even more so for him to join in something that would be deemed childish.

"Hell froze over and pigs are flying," I mutter shocked, causing Mycroft to smirk his usual Mycroft smirk for when he does something out of character.

I dashed to Greg's side as Mycroft, with all his Holmes grace and speed, gathered a snowball of perfection and began to throw. I let out a laugh, catching one of them as I came to a stop at Greg's side and threw back, smacking Sherlock in the face once again and snapping him from his stunned shock.

I watched as he hesitantly made a snowball and unsurely threw it in our direction. It made my heart clench to realize this was something he had never done as a child and from the look in Greg's face, he came to the same conclusion.

With a wicked gleam, he made for a run to Mycroft, his arm reaching up and tugging a tree branch in his wake covering me with a pile of snow. I spluttered and shot up, shaking it from my body before it melted.

"TRAITOR!" I yelled, causing him to laugh as he and Mycroft dashed behind the fountain as I threw clumps back at them. "MUTINY I TELL YOU!" I yell again, laughing.

Soon, even Sherlock joined in the fun, laughing freely and throwing snowballs at his brother and Greg while ducking and spinning from their return fire. Even in snow he was graceful, wonderful; beautiful. I had never seen him this carefree, this happy.

His face lit up, chasing away the darkness that clung around him, making him seem younger, more his normal age than that of a man who had seen too much war and danger. I knew the look well. I had seen that look in those of my fellow Soldiers in the army and I had and still see the look when I see myself in the mirror.

"SHERLOCK!" I call out my warning, sprinting and tackling him into the snow when Mycroft and Greg began to consistently throw snowballs and a bucket of snow whenever they could.

I collided with him laughing, tumbling down the small slope and landing in a snow pile, sending little flurries in the air. My shoulder and ribs hurt but I couldn't care as I laughed. He landed atop me with a grunt before bursting out in laughter as our eyes met.

"Oh, I've never had such fun!" he laughs, dropping his head onto my chest and my laughter began to die as I realized the position we were in.

"Sherlock," I began, clearing my throat. His head shot up, his eyes scanning me before a soft blush covered his face as he began to scramble off of me but I didn't let him. My hands clasping around his body, I held him to me.

I watched him crumble before my very eyes. "John, oh god, I'm sorry… so sorry for everything, I couldn't… I didn't want to see you hurt and in doing so I hurt you, I never wanted to hurt you, John… I…" He rambled out, stopping as I shushed him.

"I forgive you. I can't forget and I can't promise that everything will be as it was but… I understand; I understand why you did it," I whisper softly, seeing everything clearer now, seeing the reason behind his mistakes.

"I love you, too, you silly fool," I whisper, before pulling him to me, my lips catching his.

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**Author Note: Well here you go! I hope you liked it! Thanks so much to the ever awesome BertieBott for taking the time to Beta this for me, you are the best!**

**TDFS**


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